Silver Demise
by ElricKeyblade
Summary: Two werewolves, two brothers. Together they search for a remedy, a cure....what of the blondhaired maiden they meet who is not all that she appears to be? EdxWin
1. Prologue: Girl

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have never existed in a million years.**

A/N: I can't believe it.

Okay, this is ANOTHER EdxWin story that has sort of been floating around in my mind for a while as well. I was gonna wait until I get a good headstart on this before I uploaded this, but...something made me do this.

To tell you the truth, I have NO idea when I'll update this story. I'm already putting too much effort into my first one, _Figure of Sheherazade._ To those of you who are reading it, I certainly am working on the next chappie, but...it needs work. I will also upload an edit of the previous chappie when I update as well.

About the setting...not much to say. I am not too experienced with this stuff, but I'll just wing it and see what happens.

Now...on to the prologue:P

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**Prologue: Girl**

Tattered and grey.

It was what she felt, what she looked like, and what she was.

"Hey you! Get back to work!"

She looked up as a burly man with thick, gnarled hands stomped over to where she sat near the river. A deep-set scowl was visible on his face as he stared down at her.

"This is no time for dawdling, girl! What do you think you are doing?"

"I was washing up, sir," she replied as she quickly splashed her face with cold water. She rubbed her cheeks to get rid of some of the grime that had settled there.

Her hand was grabbed and she was forcibly jerked upwards to meet his glare.

"Don't take all day to prune yourself, girl."

He pushed her in the direction of the bleak, colorless doors situated above the bank. "Now go! The boss was askin' for you five minutes ago!"

She stumbled a few steps on the steep incline, then caught herself. For a moment, she just stood there with her head bowed, and she clenched her left hand.

"I told you to get going, girl, now GIT!"

She tightened her hand into a fist.

"My name isn't 'girl'. It's Winry," she said softly, too low for the man behind her to hear, before she picked up her feet and stalked towards those dreadful doors.

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A/N: And there you have it. Please review and tell me what you think! 


	2. Chapter 1: Arrival

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have never existed in a million years.**

Author's Note:

Well, I hope you enjoy this chappie. I really was gonna wait until later, but...I couldn't help myself! XP

For some reason I'm not all TOO satisfied with this chapter...but if you readers are, then it's fine with me!

Once again, my updates on this will NOT fall underneath any specific schedule. Like I said before, I'm sorta winging it. (In other words: going with the flow.) Putting this under a time schedule might hamper my inspiration a bit. :(

As for those reading _Figure of Sheherazade_, I am once again stuck on what I should write. This always happens for a week or two, and then my beta starts bugging me more and more, which somehow gives a kick into my inspiration. Come to think of it, he hasn't been bugging me too much lately...o.0 Is that good, or bad?

Enough with the chatting. On to the reading!

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**Chapter 1: Arrival**

He shifted his eyes left and right as he walked through the bustling streets.

He wasn't alone.

"Walk up," he muttered to the one lagging slightly behind. His hands, stuffed into the pockets of his patched brown overcoat, twitched with impatience, unseen.

The one he addressed hurried in compliance, his neck wrapped in a thick brown scarf and his entire body covered in a baggy grey overcoat. A wide-brimmed hat was settled on top of his head.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. The other sighed, and turned his eyes upward to the overcast sky.

"Don't worry about it. Just stay close, okay?"

"I will, Brother."

* * *

A haunt was a place that brought much fear into the faces of those that dared mention it. It was where the shadows of the dead resided, where they waited to prey upon those of the living who foolishly trespassed on their domain. Many superstitions and midwives' tales surrounded those places. In fact, if even a newly built house was declared a haunt, those living there would immediately dump themselves out of their home. 

A blackbird was also looked upon with suspicion. Its kind liked to fly through graveyards, picking at the flesh of the unburied dead. Their claws were tainted with the breath of vengeful spirits, which could infect someone with a mysterious, incurable disease should they come into contact with them. It was good that not too many lived around the area, for they were avoided at all costs.

Winry herself was contrary in this manner, for she ignored these beliefs. However, she was only one among many.

Which was why she couldn't understand the reason the boss gave his inn the name Blackbird's Haunt.

Then again, the name did suit the grimness of the place. It was three stories of thick, dank stone, inside and out. On winter nights like this, a persistent chill would permeate the air, thus initiating the need for the hearths in each room to be lit and blazing. Few decorations were hung in the halls and rooms, and those few were mainly tapestries with eerie depictions placed on the walls to absorb the cold. Hardly any sunlight shone where the inn was situated, giving it a shadowy, foreboding appearance. It was no question why there were not many honorable visitors.

Rather, a spot like this attracted more of the roughish lot. Drunks, crooks, local gangs...it was a den of thieves.

She paused before the back doors to the kitchen to smooth down her ragged gray frock and comb skinny fingers once through her tangled locks. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open one of the heavy doors.

And stepped into chaos.

The chef and his subordinates were rushing around the kitchen preparing food, washing dishes, cleaning up messes and the like. She stumbled out of the way of a waiter that was hurrying past with a giant platter held high above his head.

"Oi! Girl!"

She turned her head to see one of the cooks yelling at her with his meaty arm raised and a spatula clutched tight in his fist.

"Where've you been?! The boss wanted extra waiters out there!"

Winry swallowed and rushed to him. "Hurry!" he prodded.

He handed her a tray and loaded it with mugs of ale. "Them boys is drinkin' their brains out, as usual. Those waiters are being hassled for sure! After you serve these, go to Frankie's spot on the counter for refills."

She nodded once, then walked carefully to the dining pub, trying her best not to spill a drop from the heavy silver mugs.

Her nose filled with the obnoxious stench of alcohol as she entered. Crowds of men were either at the counter or their own tables, drinking and gobbling up food as they laughed and romped around. Winry ducked her head to dodge a speeding knife that embedded itself in the wall right next to her.

"O'er her', ahm thursty!" one man slurred, and she hurried to serve him a drink.

"Her' too, girl," another man called out to her, and soon others clamored for ale as well. She skittered to and fro until her tray was empty, and then hastily crossed the room to get refills from behind the counter.

"I need some more, Frankie," she said as she slammed the tray down. A gnarled, hunched man with an eyepatch peered at her for a second before loading up her tray.

"Ah, them young'uns are a'drinkin' a lot tonite," he commented before he shooed her off.

As she waded through the sea of raucous men, one tugged on her dress. She whipped around to see him grinning stupidly.

"Well aren' you a purty little one..." He hiccupped.

Winry scowled and huffed away from him. She knew how these men could get when intoxicated.

Feeling someone watching her, she twisted her head to meet the stare of a well-dressed youth her age fully clothed in black. A dark mask covered his eyes and a hat of black velvet was set over his brow. He did not shift away or fidget as she looked at him, but steadily looked back, even as she glanced away.

A cold yet curious feeling crawled through her stomach. Every night for the past two months, it was the same. Why did he like to stare at her?

Seeing that her tray was empty again, Winry sighed before once more heading back to the counter for refills.

* * *

It was starting to snow. But instead of falling in pure, white flurries, it fell in dirty, murky slush. 

He sighed and ran a gloved hand through his bangs. Its sheer white color contrasted with the dull scenery, causing it to shine with its own abnormal light.

They were going to have to find shelter. And soon.

However...

"We need to find somewhere inconspicuous," he muttered, half to himself and half to the one standing beside him. He threw a glance in his direction, noticing how a few tufts of hair seemed to peek out from underneath the large scarf, and then shifted his gaze to the moon staring at them from directly overhead.

He cursed. They _really_ needed a secluded place to stay, if at least for the next two or three nights. His eyes roved around for a few minutes, until...

Stomping forward, he ran off in a certain direction to check on what he had just seen, the other hurrying to catch up.

"Brother!" he called. "Where are you going now?"

He didn't answer as he stood there, his hand to his chin. His irises glinted.

"Blackbird's Haunt, huh?"

* * *

Winry's hand trembled as she reached for the door knob. In her other hand was balanced a tray laden with food and drink. 

Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob and opened the door.

In the room, seated at a wooden desk near the large window that oversaw the wilderness beyond, was _him_.

He frowned as he saw her. "What are ya doin' standin' there, catching flies? Bring me my food, girl!"

"Yes, Mr. Boss," she answered timidly, closing the door behind her. She walked as fast as possible without upsetting the meal and set it before him on the table. She then stood off to the side as he reached for his food.

For a moment all was silent, save for his loud gnawing on a leg of chicken. Then he flicked his beady eyes at her, and she stiffened and held her breath.

"I 'eard that..." More chewing. "Dat you've been late today." He finished devouring the chicken leg and went straight to slurping up the soup. Winry hung her head, her fingers clutched together.

"I...I was..."

"No excuses!" the chubby man yelled as he slammed his free hand down on the table. "I'll 'ave no brats around this place sniveling their way outta gettin' what they deserve!"

She clamped her mouth shut, and the boss settled back into eating.

"For dat..." _Slurp. Slurp._ "After you finish servin' them guests, you're gonna clean the hallways tonite and tomorrow night. Got it?" Now done with the soup, he grabbed his tankard of ale.

Winry didn't answer, but kept her head down.

"Got it?!"

She nodded once. "Yes, Mr. Boss."

"Good. Now take this tray and go, girl." He took off the fruit and left the greasy bowls behind.

Winry picked it up, then stumbled.

"HEY! WATCH IT!"

The boss had stood up, his dark pupils blazing.

"You had better be careful with that silver, girl! Don't forgit, for each broken piece of silver around here I'll take a finger!"

She nodded her head again and got out of there as fast as she could, slamming the door.

Her pounding heart began to steady the further away she was from that horrid place. She knew that his threat was not idle.

Once, when a serving boy had broken a silver spoon, he had a finger missing the very next day. He didn't say how it happened, but everyone remembered the boss's outspoken threats and had their suspicions. When the same thing happened to a cook that dropped a silver mug and made it crack, the fears of all who worked there were confirmed. If anyone had taken the threats lightly before, their opinions were soon reversed.

Winry carefully piled the dirty silverware in the kitchen sink. She picked up another tray loaded with brimming mugs and walked through the swinging doors.

Just as the pub went silent.

She looked around, thinking that she was the reason for the sudden hush, but then saw that no one was paying any attention to her. Confused, she followed the gazes of everyone else in the room to the front doors and saw the reason for their silence.

Strangers. Two of them, in fact. They simply stood in the doorway and stared back at the unwelcome glares with inquisitive expressions on their faces.

Winry wasn't sure how, but anybody that lived in this town was able to recognize a stranger at first sight. It was as if they had a certain smell or tattoo that distinguished them.

However, that was not how she knew that these were strangers. For as long as she could remember, she had always seen people with hair as yellow as hers, some more than others. But one of the strangers had hair of a _golden_ hue, a color that she had never dreamed possible on a person's head.

And their eyes...both pairs contained a deeper gold, one molten and the other cast. How did they get those eyes?

With the perilous Dark Forest nearby, the town of Wurlor held suspicion for everyone and everything that came from outside their borders. A stranger could mean an invasion, a signal for carnage, or worse. She knew that the feeling of wariness would be no different with these two.

They were supposedly young males, one significantly taller than the other. The taller was covered from head to toe in thick clothing, while the shorter- and possibly younger- was merely in a big overcoat, his hands in his pockets. His golden orbs surveyed the situation with an air of mixed caution and skepticism, roaming around the room until they came to rest...

On her.

Winry held her breath as their eyes connected. He seemed to be judging her, considering something.

Just what was it with strangers staring at her?

Right when she finished with that thought, he clomped towards her, his heavy boots pounding with each deliberate step. All Winry could do was stand there, frozen. Murmurs buzzed as the men noticed the peculiar occurrence between them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dark-robed customer suddenly stand up.

Before she wonder about this, he was already in front of her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Her feet remained rooted to the floor.

"Is that ale?" he abruptly asked, his focus going towards the foaming cups.

Instead of replying, she picked one up and shoved it into his hands, not looking at him as she did so. He took it with a small frown.

"...Thanks."

With that, he and his companion went and sat at the counter, acting as if nothing queer was going on.

Gradually, the murmurs rose. Soon they turned into loud statements, which then erupted into robust laughter as the pub returned to its normal level of energy. Some catcalls sounded amid the merriment.

And Winry, feeling mortified, turned and left the room.

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A/N: And so it ends...for this chappie at least. 

I will certainly go more in depth in the next chapter or two- or at least try. Like I said, people, I'm just going with the flow.

Reviews would be VERY much appreciated. I find that they help me to get off my bum earlier to write stuff. XP Really, though, they do inspire me alot, so don't forget to review, please. Also, if you can, I would like it if you told me what you think is going to happen or something like that. It just might add to my plot ideas. :)

Later! XD


	3. Chapter 2: Feelings

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, the ending to that dumb movie would have never existed in a million years.**

Author's Note:

Yay, an update! Now here's some personal thoughts on the matter:

I _really_ wasn't going to make this chappie this long, I'm serious. But as I was writing this chapter, I kept typing and typing and...yeah. I wanted to come up to a specific part that would explain something _very important_ about Winry, but I barely touched on it at the end. I decided to cut this chapter where it was and save the substance for the next chapters...which means that I will have more ideas to write on. Yes!

However, for those reading _Figure of Sheherazade_, I have very sad news. Two words: **Writer's Block.**

Yep, it's true. It's the end of the month and I _still_ don't know what to do about the next chapter for that story...which means that I'll have to skip this monthly update. (sigh) Maybe this story will help ease things.

Once again, if you have any possible ideas for the plot of _Figure of Sheherazade_ or _Silver Demise_, place those ideas in reviews or private messages, please! I am always open for intuitive tips from my readers; after all, it's you guys that are reading the stories! XP

Oh, and by the way, I would like to thank **Bar-Ohki, SistersGrimm, **and** The-SilverWolf-Alchemist **forreviewing Chapter 1.I would also like to thank **Bar-Ohki, SistersGrimm, **and Geri for reviewing the Prologue.

Okay, reading time now. :)

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**Chapter 2: Feelings**

The noise was irritating. It was pounding in his ears, giving them no reprieve whatsoever.

He looked down at the bubbling liquid for a few moments, his chin in his hand, before handing it to a nearby drunk. "Here," he said offhandedly.

"T'anks, pal," the man hoarsely replied, and then proceeded to pour the whole thing over his mouth, the drink spilling around its corners and onto his beard. He watched the spectacle with something between amusement and indifference.

His brother let out a soft sigh, and shifted. "Brother..."

"Yeah, Al?"

"Why did you take that ale? You know you don't drink." There was a hint of accusation in his voice.

He focused on the dents and ridges on the wood of the counter, thinking. He wasn't quite sure about what he should say. It was subtle, but there was something about that girl that made him want to get... closer...to her. Not for any romantic pursuits, of course, but to...investigate.

But he needn't worry his brother just yet- though knowing him, he probably already was. He glanced at him once before pushing off from the stool and standing up.

"It's nothing to worry about, Al. Let's just get our lodgings for tonight, 'kay?" he said, walking towards the front doors.

Al scurried off his own stool and caught up to him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Okay, Brother..."

He didn't sound convinced in the least.

But it didn't matter. That strange feeling was no more than a false notion.

Or so he hoped.

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Winry had never felt like this before. This feeling of harsh warmth, burning tinges, a sinking feeling in her stomach...there was only one word to define it all. 

Embarrassment.

"Didn't know you was the type ta get woozy over some boy, girl," a waiter laughed as he passed by.

"Yeah, didja see her? It was as if she couldn't resist his _charm_," another commented, taunting her. He peered at her closely, and she could smell his reeking breath. "You acted as if you ain't never seen a boy before in your life." She backed away.

"I-It's not like that..."

"Of _course_ it's not!" the man crowed, ignoring her. "Didja see a vision of stars?"

"Did your heart sing?" another joined in.

"Did he make ya wanna-"

"All right, dat's enough!" the chef bellowed.

Everyone in the kitchen immediately fell silent.

"This ain't no time for picking at some foolish nonsense, there's still customers out there! Now get back ta work!"

Grudgingly, the waiters and cooks broke off from their teasing and slunk back into their routine. Winry sighed in relief, setting down her tray and heading towards the side doors.

"I have cleaning duty, sir," she called, and the chef grunted in acknowledgement.

As soon as she entered the cold emptiness of the halls, her thoughts went back to earlier.

She really was telling the truth when she said "It's not like that." Romance and love were things that she deemed she would never encounter in her life; she had accepted that a long time ago.

There was...something...that she felt as he looked at her, a weak nudge of sorts. Something that made her feel as if she should have expected something to happen...something that was hard to describe. Something that should have been terrifying, and yet did not scare her at all.

What was this weird sensation that she had felt as she gazed into that stranger's eyes, only to have her almost forget that sensation in the first place?

She came to a final, abrupt conclusion as she reached a rotting door at the end of the hall, opening it to take out an old mop and a dented bucket.

She hoped that she never saw him again.

* * *

"You two want lodgings for da night?" The question was spat out rudely as the man at the desk summed up the guests in front of him. 

The boy's face twitched, but he kept himself composed. "Yes, sir."

The man's eyes hardened as he took in their appearances. "And...do ya 'ave any money ta pay? I don' give rooms fo' free, in case ya 'aven't noticed." His voice dripped with scorn.

He kept his face expressionless, but inside he wore a deep frown. He didn't like this man. He was fat, grubby, stuck up, and from his smell...he took a short sniff, and tried not to gag. The guy hadn't gone near a tub in weeks.

His breath weakly lifted his bangs as he exhaled. He dug a hand through his pockets and took out a small, cold lump.

He dangled it in front of that annoying prick's eyes, and couldn't hold back a smirk of satisfaction at the gasp that followed. "I don't know...does this convince you enough?" he asked, his smugness seeping though his smile.

The boss's tiny pupils were wide as saucers.

"You...you're a _Hunter_?"

"So am I, sir," Al inserted politely, showing him an object quite similar to his brother's.

Both of them were holding identical silver watches attached to chains of the same metal. On each of the watches was engraved the symbol of a five pointed star overlapped with a single tree branch.

Needless to say, the boss was astounded.

"B-but..." his voice came out in a harsh whisper as his eyes darted back and forth from one brother to the other. "Your age..."

The shorter one in front of him put his watch back in his pocket. "We're the Elric brothers," he stated simply, as if that fact alone would explain everything.

The boss's mouth stayed open for a few moments longer, but then he closed it and cleared his throat in an attempt to regain the normalcy of his gruff composure. "The Elric brothers...I see...da youngest Hunters to serve da country...are you da...younger brother?" he asked the smaller one.

He failed to register the boiling face until it was too late.

"No I'm NOT!" the young man yelled, his palms slamming heavily upon the boss's desk and frightening the poor man out of his wits. "Just WHO are you calling a SPECK OF DUST that CAN'T EVEN-"

"That's _enough_, Brother," Al interjected and pulled his sibling a few steps back.

His brother took a couple deep breaths to calm himself, then reversed back to his previous countenance.

"I'm Edward, the _oldest_. This is my _younger_ brother, Alphonse."

"O-Oh...I see..." the boss stuttered wiping his sweaty brow with a dirty rag. His shaking hand reached for a nearby quill as he opened a journal and began searching through it. "You...you want a room fo' two, yes? I 'ave da perfect one..."

He suddenly stomped out of his chair and walked over to the door, peeking his head out. "GIRL!"

That shout made the brothers jump out of their skin and regard the man as though he were crazy.

The sound of running feet could then be heard, accompanied by a strange clacking. Both sounds were heading their way.

Before they knew it, there stood a girl with a mop and empty bucket held in one hand. The other hand covered her heaving chest as she sucked in breaths of air.

Recognition flashed in Edward's mind.

_'Her...'_

As if aware of his realization, she looked up and met his eyes with hers. Once again, he felt that faint buzzing pester his brain as a deep blue began to pore into him and flood his entire sense of sight.

She abruptly broke their connection, shaking her head roughly. The buzzing receded as her attention was diverted, but it still remained.

"You called, Mr. Boss?" she asked, her quiet voice a sharp contrast to the booming heard a few minutes before.

"Girl, take t'ese two to da fourth room on da third floor," the boss commanded. The girl started.

"Somet'in' wrong, girl?" the boss all but snarled.

Edward could see her throat moving as she swallowed.

"That room...you might not want to lodge anyone there," she stated, looking down.

"I don' care, girl, just take 'em there!" the man hollered. His gaze then shifted to the Hunters behind him, and his aura shifted drastically. "I mean..." He coughed, and his voice went almost sickeningly soft.

"Just take t'ese two to their room, okay...Winry?"

Her whole being went rigid at that one word, her hand loosening and dropping the mop and bucket as they fell to the floor with resounding clatters.

Within seconds, though, she bent over and picked them up, leading the brothers out the door with a "Follow me..."

Her reaction did not go by unnoticed.

* * *

Why? 

Why was it that these things just had to happen to her? Why, why, _why_?

Without knowing it, she inhaled a soft, deep breath, releasing it through her nose. _'Just ignore them,'_ she thought, trying to ignore the peculiar tingling in her ears. Even though she had avoided his gaze, that..._feeling_ still besieged her.

She made sharp turns at corners throughout the corridors as though in an attempt to lose them, but they managed to always keep at least a few steps behind. The mop and bucket clashed loudly with each step she took.

No word was spoken as they ascended the stone-carved stairs to the second floor, and none was spoken as they once more walked through hallways. Winry was beginning to think that she shouldn't have been so nervous after all.

But then...

"Hey."

That one word, spoken in such a demanding tone, was spoken by _him_. It was _him_ out of the two that was trying to get her attention.

And that didn't please her in the least.

"Hey, you." There was a note of slight irritation in his voice, but Winry paid no heed. Instead she picked up the pace and walked faster. The clanging of the mop and bucket increased with her movements.

_Tic-CLANG--Tic-CLANG--Tic-CLANG._

"Hey, don't you hear me talking to you?" Now he sounded very much aggravated.

"_Brother_," she heard the other chastise him, "don't do that. She probably isn't supposed to talk to guests."

A huff was heard, and once more there was silence- save for the clanks produced by the mop and bucket, the clomps made by their shoes on stone, and the patters that came from the impact her bare feet made with the cold floor.

The next approach was softer, yet more effective nonetheless.

"...Winry?"

Instantly she stopped in her tracks- which resulted in her nose colliding with the corner of the wall that she was turning past. She hissed and rubbed her nose to ease the throbbing, even though she knew that she was spreading dirt on it in the process.

"Hmph."

She turned her head and saw him standing there with his hands in his pockets and a small, cocky smirk. He widened his grin as she looked, showing his teeth.

"You're not used to anyone calling you that, are you...Winry."

This time she was somehow able to keep herself from jumping like a startled rabbit, which did good for whatever dignity she had left. She just stared at him, wondering.

And as she kept staring at him, she remembered. He was the reason that the cooks teased her so much in the kitchen today. He was the reason why she had to stop her work in a single moment, pouring out valuable water from a nearby window so that she could take her bucket with her. He was the reason why she had that weird feeling from the moment he first walked through that accursed door.

As all of these thoughts stumbled and crashed into each other, they began to combine together as part of a mixture. A simple, easy-to-prepare batter, which had the potential to make the perfect cake.

Anger.

Winry felt her brows deepen in a frown, and her tired, strong eyes glared at this person who dared to do such things to her. Her hand tightened around the cleaning utensils in her hand.

"I believe," she said in a low voice, though it wasn't hard to pinpoint the anger in her tone, "that it is none of your concern."

The one she addressed merely raised an eyebrow, as though mocking her.

"...Really, now?"

She said nothing, but whipped around and continued leading them to the next staircase. Footsteps again thudded behind her, and she gritted her teeth.

_'The sooner I lead them to their room, the sooner I can be rid of them.'_

But then she recalled an important fact, and her heart sank in disappointment.

"Brother, you're evil," she heard the other person behind say in a scolding tone. As they reached the steps that led to the third floor, one of their footsteps hurried toward her back.

"Um...excuse me, miss...Winry?" The question was not authoritative or bossy like the other one, but was rather more...courteous.

Winry faced the person right behind her. Though covered from head to toe in every piece of clothing imaginable, she found that in his eyes, there was much kindness and purity.

Unfortunately, looking at him increased the tingling in her ears as well, if not more so than when she looked at the other.

_'Why are these two affecting me this way?'_

His eyes crinkled in a friendly matter. "I'm sorry about that...my brother can act somewhat like an idiot sometimes."

"Hey!" said brother barked, a fist held out in front of him. "That was uncalled for Al!"

Al ignoring the outcry, still searched Winry's eyes for an answer as they both stood there. She twisted back around, her head facing the floor as a result of the sudden shyness that came from being apologized to.

"Whatever...it's okay..." she muttered, lifting her head and climbing up the staircase.

"See, Brother?" Al said. "No harm done."

His brother grumbled in reply.

Winry stopped at a large gray door, standing off to the side.

"You have the keys...right?" she asked them.

"I don't," said the brother. He looked at Al. "Do you have them?"

Al sighed. "Of course I do, Brother. After all, you were the one who left in such a hurry." He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a ring of two large silver keys in a mitten-covered palm. "You always like to rush into things."

His brother didn't answer. He was looking at the door as though in deep thought. Curious, Winry looked to see what had captivated his attention so much.

There, decorating the door, was a giant carving of a wolf.

The wolf was carved as majestic in every right. His huge head was thrown back in an impressive howl to his goddess, Moon. There was so much detail shown of the hairs on its body, the furriness of its ears, and the way its eyes squeezed shut during the howl that it almost seemed to breathe. Winry wouldn't have been surprised in the least if the carving was able to somehow ripple itself to life.

With something of a sad smile, he slowly reached out and placed a hand on the carving, his hand feeling the stony texture through the glove that covered it.

_'Why do they have their hands covered?' _

The moment was halted when Al came forward with the keys, gently pushing his brother aside. With a grunt, he pulled open the door.

For a second or two, all the brothers could do was stand there.

The room was quite large. Inside was an enormous couch facing a window that encompassed nearly all of the opposite wall. There was also a small lavatory and, if one could see past twenty feet, a bedroom containing two huge double beds. Other than that, there a couple of red velvet tapestries covering the wall, along with some curtains for the window. A bulky rug of bear fur concealed much of the stone ground, and a silver candelabra hung on the wall over a fireplace nearby. The room was simple, yet contained the things needed for a night's stay or two.

And it was covered in dust.

"Wha- Just what is that old man trying to pull?!" the shorter of the two shouted. His hand quickly clenched into a fist.

Winry stepped between them into the room. "It's...it's not his fault," she said, though she sort of wished that it was so. If Mr. Boss had felt that he had to say her name in front of these two, then that must mean that they held some form of power for him to act in such a manner. "Not many guests come here for lodgings- only a for cup of ale or two. The third floor is the one with the best rooms, but he forgot to order me or someone else to clean 'em after a while. But if he's trying to give you guys the best rooms," she said in a different tone, glancing at them, "then you must be very important."

The one who had reacted so strongly before now pulled back his fist and scratched at his head in a sheepish manner. Then his face blossomed into a dark, know-it-all grin.

"I believe," he said, "that it's none of your concern."

Winry's eyes widened, and she turned away to save herself further embarrassment. She then heaved a sigh.

"...I have to clean this room. I'll go fetch water and rags," she mumbled. She leaned the mop on a wall and hurried out, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Right after Winry left, Al turned to Edward. "Brother, why do you keep _doing_ that to her?" 

Edward looked at him in confusion. "Doing what?"

"I don't know, but..._something_. You keep messing with her and-" a sudden thought hit Al.

"If I didn't know any better, Brother, I'd say that you were _flirting_."

Edward choked on his spit right then and there.

"WHAT?! No, Al, it's not like that!"

"Oh really?" Al said with a laugh in his voice. "When we first laid eyes on her, you couldn't bear to look away. Now I get it." He waved a finger at the fuming Edward. "You only got that ale from her to get closer, _didn't you_?."

Edward stiffened, but managed to force his frustrations down his windpipe. "NO, Al," he said through gritted teeth.

He walked towards the window, from where they could see the river below.

"Didn't you sense...something?"

Al's eyebrows shot up, and he nodded his head. "Well...yeah- though it was very faint at first...and I don't know what it is. But I didn't want to worry you."

Both of them saw Winry head towards the river with the bucket in her hands.

"...Me too." Edward's eyes narrowed as they gazed at her hunched over the riverbank.

"There is something weird about that girl."

* * *

Winry bent near the river and drew water into the bucket. She stopped when she saw something gleam at the bottom of the shallows. 

Leaning over ever so slightly, she picked it up.

It was a small silver coin, strong and sturdy. She turned it over again and again, feeling the cool wet metal between her fingers. She paused to look at the face of the coin once more.

All at once, the coin glowed.

* * *

A/N: Well, this chapter is done. (wipes brow) Whew! 

Since I feel like blabbing today, I'll let you in on something that I thought funny:

As I was doing the final edits for this chapter earlier today, my tired, often sleep-deprived mind tricked my eyes into reading something that wasn't there.

"Edward stiffened, but managed to force his frustrations down his windpipe. 'NO, Al,' he said through gritted teeth.

He crip-walked towards the window, from where they could see the river below."

Get it? _Crip-walked_?! (Not sure if that is the exact spelling though...) Just one look at the image of Edward doing that and I strated to grin like crazy.

Well, that's enough talking.

**Please review! They keep me motivated and lead to faster updates (most of the time...)! ;)**


	4. Chapter 3: Hints

**Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me. If it did...well, i don't really know, but it doesn't. Enough said.**

Author's Note:

I am terribly sorry for not updating this in _so_ long, everyone. For some reason the ideas would not come to me- but that is most likely because I was stressing out over school and summer school and only had time to worry about one of my fanfics- **Figure of Sheherazade**. And then when I finished with this chapter a few days ago I was terribly insecure about this and for some reason couldn't bear to update it yet.

...Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be so afraid of posting stuff on this site. But what can I say, I am very cautious with certain things. Plus there was the fact that this chapter was somewhat shorter than the last one and I couldn't find a way to make it longer. :(

But I hope those who have been waiting for this aren't too disappointed by it. I sincerely hope that anyone who reads this will enjoy it. _Sincerely_.

And let's not forget everyone who had reviewed my last chapter: **Bar-Ohki**, **Wandering Hitokiri**, **Diaph Annie**, **werxa**, **SistersGrimm**, Tierra, **Funky Editors 12**, **Cerulean San**, and inu 4ever. Thank you So much for all your reviews, for they were uplifting and good for my writer's soul. It is always great to hear from readers, whether new or old. :)

And now, to get you guys away from my silly paranoia and into the new chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to review, please! :)

* * *

**Chapter 3: Hints**

_Plod. Plod. Plod._

A pair of thick black boots thudded softly in the moist dirt just outside the inn. They kept onward, as though aimless in their direction, until eyes saw a lone girl kneeling at the nearby river with a dented bucket.

Feet quickly moved behind a tree, the eyes still observant.

His face was not sneaky; rather, it was sly and knowing. A little smile curved on his lips as he watched her draw water, his eyes drinking in the subtle strength of her pale arms with a sort of satisfaction.

He bared his teeth, emitting a sound that she couldn't have possibly heard even if she tried. Only a few moments passed before a dark shape flapped and landed on his arm with a clumsy swoop. He slowly stroked it around its ears as he continued to watch the girl.

His smile widened at the sight of the coin glowing in her hands.

"She is wonderful, is she not, Ern? Just as I remembered." His whisper to the creature was soft, murmuring.

"But they are here, too."

His ministrations stopped abruptly, and beady eyes looked up at him in silent questioning.

"Between her...and them...and _me..._"

A fresh smirk curled around the edges of his mouth, and he raised his arm to the sky.

"This will be quite interesting."

The bat flew into the dark reaches of the night, his wings illuminated by the silvery light of the moon.

* * *

She stopped her scrubbing as a twinge of pain shot from her palm to her elbow. Dumping the rags in the bucket, she slowly raised her calloused hands and winced at the raw, red blisters forming on them.

Another look at the length of the hallway made her sigh.

She would have to make do without sleep again. Dipping her hands in the slushy water of the bucket to cool the blisters, she thought over the amount of work left to do. Maybe if she didn't do the parts covered by rugs and tapestries…Winry closed her eyes.

A memory of a neglected errand, Mr. Boss's fury, a crude strip of hardened leather in one of his hands as she cowered in the corner of a wall…her eyes snapped back open.

No. It would do her no good if she left anything unfinished.

Though she did leave their room dusty for the night, Winry thought with a smidge of guilt.

Even so, it wasn't really _her_ fault…the moment she had gotten back to their room, bucket in tow, they had shoved the door in her face and said they were too tired to be bothered at the moment.

Or rather, the shorter of the two had said all that. What was his name again? El…no, wait, it was Ed.

It didn't matter what his name was though. In her opinion, he was far too annoying.

'_That's enough thinking for now,'_ Winry decided, and she went back to work scrubbing the hallways. With a twinge she realized that she never had a chance to get her mop back. Well, no helping that now.

A shaft of moonlight shone through the window and dazzled the silver chain around her neck into a twinkle.

* * *

"Hey!" A none-too-gentle prodding into her spine. "Hey, girl! Get up!" A sharper jab into her back, and her eyes shot awake.

Winry yawned, and then jerked as she found out where she was.

She was curled up into a corner of a hallway, her wet rags pressed to her chest and making her shiver with the chill the water gave her in the early dawn.

'_Just one…spot…left.'_ Bleary, her eyes turned to the last spot that had to clean the night before- a fist-sized speck of dust and cobwebs right above her head on the wall. Reaching up, she gently wiped it off.

"Girl!"

Oh, right. It was dawn. She had to work at dawn. Mr. Boss usually called her at-

Oh, no.

Winry panicked and looked into the face of the bearded cook who had teased her the day before. He was now scowling down at her with intense disapproval.

"The boss called you a little while ago, girl," he spat, and he stomped away to the kitchens.

Mr. Boss- _what?_

She jumped off the floor and ran fast as her bare, dirty feet would allow her.

Up the steps…turn towards the left…Mr. Boss will be very angry…so angry…

Winry burst through the door and almost fell heaving to the carpet.

"Took ya long enough, girl," his surly voice growled. Terrified, she hunched her shoulders in and kept her eyes on the floor.

"Look up when I'm speakin' to ya!"

She complied, and his angry, scorching gaze made her shiver. But it wasn't only that that made her afraid.

In his hands was that awful leather whip.

Her shudder made Mr. Boss grin- a cruel, twisting action that crawled above his chin. "Dat's better. Now, did ya serve those two guests breakfast yet?"

"N-no, sir." It was always better to cut straight to the point with Mr. Boss. But…she had to serve them breakfast?

'_This isn't good.'_

Another scowl. "Then get to it! And don' let me hafta tell ya again!" He snapped the whip in front of him, and Winry backed up against the door. "Now _git_!"

"Y-yes sir."

She ran away to the kitchens.

* * *

_Knock. Knock._

What was that? A woodpecker tapping around somewhere?

_Knock. Knock._

He groaned and sat up, running a gloved hand over his tired face. What the hell…he never got up this early. Who was that at the door?

Just then some more knocks sounded, and he huffed and stretched. Sleep was impossible now. Great.

The dust made him sneeze when he got off the sofa, and that made him even crankier. Grumbling, he dusted off his clothes and shook his feet to get some feeling into them.

"I don't remember asking for no damn bed and breakfast-"

_Knock. Knock._

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Honestly, didn't people know the value of patience these days? He sighed and pulled open the door.

"Yeah yeah, what do you-" Anything and everything rude that he was about to say took only a second to die in his throat as a strange feeling jolted through his head.

'_Well what do you know...'_

"Why Winry, what a surprise." The girl in front of him frowned at his usage of her name, and it secretly amused him. "What's all this?"

In her hands was a silver tray laden with…well, it _looked_ like food, but…

"Brother? Who's at the door?"

"Just one of the servants, Al," he shot over his shoulder. "Nothing to worry about."

A soft sigh told him that his brother was going back to sleep in the bedroom, so he turned his attention back to the girl. "So, is that really for me?" _'And my brother,'_ he should have added, but he didn't bother.

The conflicting emotions were easy to witness on her face, and he coolly watched as they calmed and smoothed over each other into a blank stare.

"Your breakfast," she muttered, and she pushed the tray straight into his hands, making him stumble.

"…I see." Even though the food on the tray smelled edible, he still couldn't help the small frown that came over his face. "This going to happen every morning?"

"Yes." He wanted to say something, anything that could force something of a conversation, but she was already moving down the hallway.

He had missed his chance.

* * *

'_I hate this,'_ were Winry's only thoughts as she devoured her scraps of food. Breakfast was never much of an enjoyment like she heard other people say it was, but she found that she liked it better whenever she ate outside.

It was because of this that she was seated behind a wall of the inn, her arms covered in bumps from the cold. She didn't mind it though. No one else ever came here, and she liked being alone.

"_Caw! Caw!"_

Two blackbirds landed in the snow and stared at her. She stared back, and one of them hopped a little in her direction.

"_Caw!"_

"I only have a little today…"

"_Caw!" _the bird repeated, and Winry sighed in defeat. Ever since she had fed them some of her own food a few weeks ago, they had always come back for more whenever she came out here for meals. But even with all those horrible rumors surrounding them, and their annoying pestering for her meager scraps, she found that she didn't really mind. They were only birds after all.

"Here." The birds leaped at the small pile of food she laid before them, and she used her fingers to eat the rest from her bowl. Some scuffles ensued near her as two more birds joined the feeding. One of the birds became daring and hopped on the rim of her bowl.

She shooed it away with her hand. "Leave it alone. This is all I've got."

Instead of paying heed to her words, the blackbird flew and circled back, this time getting a peck at a near-burnt sausage she was plopping in her mouth. Her brow furrowed at this, but she said nothing and just swallowed the sausage whole.

"All right, that's enough. See you guys later."

She stood up and dusted the snow off her ragged smock.

It was time for work.

* * *

_Ever since its discovery by man, silver has been known as the "pure" metal. Its color, when untarnished, is that of an almost pure white- white, the age-old symbol of purity and light. It is partly for this that it has been so valued and cherished by those who can get their hands on it- namely, the wealthy._

_But there is a second meaning behind its other name. For centuries silver has been said to have the ability to "purify" those of the darkness, creatures whose origins are not those of man or the common beast. How or why this is said, no one truly knows-_

He clamped the book shut. Thanks to constant reading and rereading, those words were already ingrained into his mind.

With a sigh, Edward sat up from his lounging position on the still dusty couch. After a glance at the bedroom door where Al slept, he tapped his fingers first on the sides of his thighs, then the couch, and then finally in each palm.

It was no use- he was bored.

A peek out the window told him that even though the thick fog and mist gave the appearance of an early night, it was only afternoon.

'…_Wonder if the sun ever shines bright and cheery in this place…'_

The thought made him snort.

But there actually were more important things to think of here. For instance…that girl.

His eyes narrowed. Everything about that girl screamed that she was hiding something, but he couldn't exactly tell what. Though she _did_ smell somewhat like blackbirds…

"Hey Al," he called out. "You okay in there?"

No answer. His brother was fast asleep.

* * *

The sun was setting, and the kitchens were busier than ever. After all, it was common fact that robbers and gangs did most of their business at night.

"S-sorry! Excuse me…" Winry looked up from the dishes she was washing and noticed a girl dodging the plates being hurried out to the bar. "I-I didn't mean to-"

"Just git outta the way, girl!" a waiter shouted rudely, and he pushed her to the side. Winry watched for a second, then wiped her hands on her smock.

Rose was the new worker here. Apparently she was "found" just yesterday, but Winry couldn't remember seeing her around anytime before this morning. But as the story went, Mr. Boss had let her in, given her some sweeping jobs on the second floor all day yesterday, and now put her to work in the kitchens. That was probably the only good thing about Mr. Boss: he may have everyone here working their bones off, but Winry could never remember him turning away anyone who looked like they needed somewhere to stay.

The dim sound of crying and yells echoed in her mind for just a second, but then she shook her head and looked down at Rose. Rose may be a little bit clumsy, but she'll get used to life around here. Besides, maybe…

"Are you…okay, Rose?" She leaned down and reached out a hand, and felt a little thrill in her heart when Rose took it and smiled. No one had ever really given her such a smile before.

"Thank you…" No one had ever really thanked her before either.

'_Maybe she could be a friend.'_ Winry tried her own feeble attempt at a smile, then merely nodded her head. "You…should be careful. No one here likes anyone who gets in the way."

At this, Rose's eyes saddened. "Sorry."

Winry felt a bit guilty, but decided to let it go. "You'll be alright in a few days, as long as you never break Mr. Boss's silver."

Rose looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Whoever breaks Mr. Boss's silver around here gets a finger taken off. I saw it happen before. Twice." Why was she saying this? All she was doing was scaring her even more. But Rose had to know the truth, or else she may not even survive around here…

"A- A finger? How- Why would he do such a-" What happened next wasn't entirely Rose's fault. It just…happened. But all the same, the arm that Rose had stretched out in her panic collided with a tray a waiter was carrying past them. The tray bounced off her arm, then fell back on Winry…

And then crashed to the floor- bowl, spoon, cups, and all.

The result was immediate. Death-filled silence ran throughout the entire kitchen, and every face turned to the corner where Rose and Winry stood, staring open-mouthed at the cracked silverware.

"I didn't do it!" cried the waiter who had carried the tray. He backed away, his finger accusing the two girls in front of him. "It was those two! I was just doin' my work, and then them girls knocked me over! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!"

Winry knelt down and picked up the silver, gathering each cracked utensil into her apron. Rose, on the other hand, burst into tears.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_! I didn't mean to- I-I'm so-"

She ignored Rose. Crying would not be good enough. It was _never_ good enough. In front of Mr. Boss, tears were nothing but useless drops of water, water that he would rather trade for ale.

When finished, she walked out of the kitchen, her head bent. Everyone in her path sprang out of the way, as though she were touched by plague. For a moment, she considered calling out to Rose to follow her, but then thought better of it. If Rose followed her, she would find out. And no one, _no one_, should find out. If so, then…then…

'_**You will die.'**_

* * *

He was getting hungry. Whatever happened to that bed and breakfast?

Oh, right. _Breakfast._ Which here was probably synonymous with "get your other meals yourself." Lovely service here, wasn't it?

Edward grumbled to himself. This was just peachy. While he wasn't expecting a top-class hotel, this inn seemed entirely inconsistent with its services. But then all sorts of crooks visited this place, so maybe he shouldn't be so surprised at the shabbiness around here.

And then there was the fact that the inconsistent serving may prove better for Al for a while. Seeing as how his instincts were synced with the quarter moon, Al's condition tended to be unpredictable- sometimes it would be three days, an hour, or a whole week…he only hoped it would never stretch as far as a month.

He slumped, then shot straight up. Was that…

Was that a woman…crying?

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Maybe it shouldn't even be his business. But if this place turned out to be fishy and a certain pyro-summoner found out that he hadn't done any investigations on his part, then his life would start making an even sharper turn for the worse…plus, he had to get dinner anyways. Maybe just a peek?

Wait, he knew nothing about the inner workings of this place. What if he got lost?

_Growwwwwl._

That answered his question.

With one more glance at the room where Al slept, Edward was out the door in a matter of seconds.

* * *

She made sure to walk fast down the hallway, but not too fast. She didn't want to drop any of the silverware in her apron, or else there would be more to do…Winry then paused to look around. Should she stay here, or go upstairs? Or should she just go outside?

No, going outside was too risky. There were windows, and if Mr. Boss caught her outside during this time then she would _really_ be in trouble. There was less of a chance of being caught if she went upstairs.

That thought through, she nodded her head and then padded her way up the staircase. Maybe she should go that floor where those two were staying- they were the only ones on that floor, and they didn't seem to ever come out of their room…it shouldn't be hard to find a lone room there and fix this mess in a blink.

A turn on another staircase almost brought her in view of Ed.

She ducked behind a wall not far from where he stood. When she peeked out at him, she saw that he was wandering around, as though looking for something. His hands were on his knees, and he was peering in corners.

She ducked again when he straightened and reached up to scratch his head.

"Hmm…I thought I heard the crying on this floor…"

Her eyes widened. _'__He__ heard Rose crying? But how?'_

This wasn't good. If he heard it then Mr. Boss might've-

'_I need to hurry!'_ Only the knowledge that she didn't want to meet up with this boy right now prevented her from running the rest of the way to the third floor. And then that feeling, that _cursed_ feeling- it was surging through her head again. Why now, of all times?

His footsteps were coming closer. Did he feel it too? Was he going to find out where she was?

He stopped right next to her corner, and Winry thanked whoever it was that needed thanking that she was submerged in darkness. A breath fell on her cheek, then her hair…and then he moved away, down the staircase that led to the first floor.

She was safe. But there was no time to waste. She should do her deed now, but this was Mr. Boss's floor, and any area around him was never safe.

Winry ran.

* * *

He could smell that servant girl- once he sniffed a scent, it never escaped him.

But there were more important things on his mind right now- the state of his stomach and the whereabouts of that crying woman. Whatever hide-and-seek that servant was playing, he had no time or interest to be a part of it. But she _did_ have the scent of fear tinging her skin…what was that all about?

Edward shrugged. She must have forgotten something and was getting in trouble with her boss over it. Must have been something like a bowl, or a bucket, or maybe even a mop…

He halted in his tracks.

'_It can't be.'_

* * *

Her head was pounding. It was pounding ever since she had set foot here, on this floor. It was pulsing with something that should have been painful, and yet wasn't…

She gasped and fell to the ground.

'_What…what is happening to me?'_ Winry held a hand to her head and tried not to shut her eyes against the feeling overwhelming her.

To her confusion, her feet seemed to have minds of their own. Instead of taking her away from the source of this feeling, it was carrying her _towards_ it. In only a matter of moments she was stumbling through the door, her head now feeling like it was thickening with something other than blood.

No one was here, but she knew this room- wasn't this where those two were lodging?

What was the meaning of this?

_Grrrrrrrrr. Grrrrrrrrr._

The door slammed shut behind her.

_Grrrrrrrl. GRRRRRRRRR._

Breathless and gasping, Winry turned…

And looked straight into the eyes of a wolf.

* * *

"Another drink," he requested, placing his cup on the counter. The bartender hurried to comply.

The eyes behind the dark mask shifted upwards as he lifted the drink to his lips, and the bare peek of an incisor showed through a mysterious grin.

Fate was in motion, and neither he nor anyone else alive could stop it.

'_What fun.'_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So...how was it? I depend on you readers for insight, and I greatly appreciate any that is given to me. So please review! ;)


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